


Pride

by coeurastronaute



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coeurastronaute/pseuds/coeurastronaute
Summary: clexa pride 2k18





	1. Stud

“Once again, Clarke, I would have gladly pimped you out much earlier if it meant you’d secure us access to a private jet on demand.”

Across from her friend, Clarke smiled to herself as she watched the clouds slip by outside of the window. It was early, but the sky was so blue, and the clouds were spotty, showing off the passing country below.

“You’re different,” Raven mused as she sipped her mixed drink.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” she teased with a mischievous grin. “You’re awfully happy. And oddly calm about dating someone who just gives you their jet for the weekend.”

“I’m dating someone with a jet,” Clarke shrugged. “I have to be okay with it.”

“The last time we were here, I asked if you were in love.”

“I remember.”

Clarke sipped her drink and let out a long sigh before finally facing her friend. She didn’t want to admit that she was different, but two years with Lexa was enough to change her, just as she was certain Lexa wasn’t the same as when they met. They both grew, and for Clarke, a certain comfortableness grew and blossomed.

“You’re calm and confident. Happy. Just… content,” Raven observed. “I like it. Looks good on you. Dating a billionaire must be good for your health.”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Your girlfriend is in London, and gave us her private plane to use so we could go to Miami for Pride and spend the week basking in the sun in a penthouse room at a swanky hotel. She’s a billionaire.”

“To be fair, we own the hotel,” Alexander Woods piped up, leaning forward from his seat a few rows back and to the left. “It doesn’t cost her anything.”

“Your girlfriend owns a hotel,” Raven nodded.

“Please don’t encourage her,” Clarke rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s father.

“Am I a power bottom or a service top?” Aden asked as he flipped through a magazine.

“If you’re anything like your sister, you’re a power top,” Raven muttered, earning a pillow tossed from her friend.

“You can be whatever you want, son.”

“This is going to be a long week,” Clarke sighed again.

In truth, she was only a little sad. It was plainly because she missed her girlfriend, and as much as she enjoyed Alex and Aden, they just reminded her that Lexa was missing from the equation. They were poor substitutes, but fun enough additions.

The plane continued on its journey, cutting across the eastern seaboard in hopes of finding beautiful beaches and a gay ol’ time. What began as an off-handed idea of Raven and Clarke going somewhere for a weekend suddenly erupted into a pilgrimage. And it would have involved Lexa, had the meeting not popped up so rudely.

“We’re not here to cramp your style, you know,” Alex offered. “Just hitching a ride to the Keys for a few weeks.”

“I can’t let you apologize to me for letting us use your plane. This is seriously more than I could have ever dreamed,” Clarke chuckled. “I’m hardly doing you a favor.”

“Putting up with us is enough.”

“Easier than your daughter.”

“She is a handful, isn’t she?”

They shared a conspiratorial look and smiled at the idea of the hellion they both oddly missed and wished was around to embarrass. Instead, Clarke watched Raven watch the clouds and play on her phone intermittently.

“You know, you never finished telling me about your plans,” Alex offered, taking his whisky as the stewardess passed.

“Just a lot of beach and sun and pool,” Clarke smiled. “And we have some friends who live down there who invited us for some festivities.”

“I have to admit, I’ve never been to a Pride celebration.”

“They’re more fun if your girlfriend shows up.”

“We’re unveiling new initiatives and scholarships for minorities. I should do some research.”

“I know exactly where you can start,” Raven piped up, suddenly interested and with a mischievous smile. That was her permanent state at that point. Clarke tried to give her a look, but it went ignored.

“Curiosity and such,” he nodded, clinking his glass with their’s.

“To Pride,” Raven cheersed back.

“What could go wrong?”

* * *

“I could get used to this,” Raven sighed as she adjusted in her lawn chair, soaking up the sun and enjoying the warmth.

Just this morning they were in New York and complaining about the heat. Now, they were sunbathing on a rooftop pool deck and loving the feel of the oppressive warmth. A private jet is an amazing thing.

“Don’t,” Clarke warned. “We can’t keep accepting things from Lexa.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t pay her back.”

“You’re in a relationship. You don’t have to pay her back.”

“I don’t like getting used to it.”

“You have to at some point,” Alex interjected, lifting his sunglasses only to wipe some of the water from his face.

Sometimes, Clarke was absolutely blown away by Lexa’s family. Her father reminded her of one of those old time actors who grew older but still remained insanely hot. She certainly could understand Raven’s weird infatuation; at least to a degree. But he also was so amazingly down to earth that it reminded Clarke of her own father, and his straight-to-the-point wisdom.

Aden splashed into the pool again, never tiring as he came up and grabbed a raft.

“I’ve gotten better,” Clarke assured him. “It’s still a little weird when your girlfriend tells you to take the jet to her penthouse on the beach.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine.”

“We’re not allowed to spend money on ourselves,” Aden offered. “We don’t waste it. Lexa loves you. It makes her feel good to do things for you.”

“That’s true. It’s purely selfish at this point,” the father agreed.

“I swear to God, I have to figure out a way to marry into this family,” Raven muttered to herself.

Clarke laughed to herself and watched the boys play in the pool for a few minutes, mulling over what they said, though she didn’t get long, as her phone began to ring and a familiar picture flashed on the screen letting her know who it was.

“Hey,” she smiled, her cheeks instantly growing wide at just the thought of her girlfriend’s voice.

“I am so sorry my family added themselves to your weekend. We’re nothing but genetically predisposed to interrupting and annoying everyone around us–”

“Hey, I’m great. Thank you so much for the trip. This place is beautiful. How are you?”

“Oh, right, yeah, that stuff. I kind of jumped right in, huh?” Lexa worried, her voice a little tighter, her words a little quicker than normal.

“You did.”

“Sorry. I was in meetings, and I just caught up on everything.”

“Don’t worry. We’re going to take them with us.”

“What?” Lexa bulked. Clarke wouldn’t know it, but she literally paused with the new information, halting her long stride through a distant subway station, interrupting the flow of pedestrians with the notion of her father and brother celebrating the gayest month of the year with her girlfriend on a beach.

None of it added up.

“Your dad and brother are just joining us for Pride.”

“Wow. That’s… wow.”

“I like your family.”

“You’re not obligated to humor them. I set this up for you and Raven. I don’t want you to feel–”

“Lex, breathe,” Clarke chuckled. “We’re having a good time. They’re just pushing their trip to the Keys by a few days. No big deal. Relax.”

“Are you sure?”

“If only you were here, it’d be perfect.”

“Don’t get sappy on be, Griffin.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

“I got called Dad like sixteen times,” Alex shook his head as he grabbed another piece of pizza.

“You got called Daddy,” Raven corrected. “There is a huge difference.”

“It did seem like a compliment,” he nodded.

Stretched out on the living room floor of the penthouse suite, the odd unit filled their bellies with greasy food to combat the inevitably sugary drink hangovers that awaited them after a night of fun on the beach at parties no one ever expected to see Alexander Woods, CEO and Owner of Woods Industries, hanging out at.

Groggy-eyed and exhausted from a long night of video games, Aden enjoyed seeing the adults in his life a little off-center. Something about it was so affirming and oddly normal about the idea of never growing up. Completely unable to keep both eyes open, slurring their words, with no filters, it was fantastic.

“You’re a catch,” Clarke promised, mouth full, though she tried to cover it as best she could. “You’d clean up if you decided to try out guys. Or girls again.”

“Oh no,” he blushed and shrugged.

“Yeah, Dad, you never really told me why you haven’t dated again,” Aden realized, suddenly confronted with the idea.

Raven’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Clarke. Pride had been amazing. It’d been a party and an event and so much fun. This seemed new. Gently setting down his pizza, the patriarch swallowed and avoided looking at his son.

“I was already in love once,” he shrugged finally, though it looked like he debated many more words.

Never in her life, would Clarke have imagined that this was where her life would lead her. But sitting on the floor with the ocean and skyline as her view, just beyond her own personal infinity pool, with one of the richest men on the planet and her best friend, she didn’t have time to question it at all.

“You can still date. Me and Lexa won’t care. We just want you to be happy,” his son promised, nonchalant and Clarke understood that this family was emotional deficient, but trying. It was genetic.

“This is goddamn adorable. Why can’t you be older?” Raven lamented, almost on the edge of tears. “Why can’t you be younger?” she accused the father, earning a few laughs.

“I think Aden’s onto something,” Clarke tried. “Lexa just wants you to be happy.”

“I am,” Alex smiled thoughtfully. “You all might not get to understand it, but I was so madly and truly in love with another person. She was my best friend. She was my heartbeat and breath. I can’t think of anyone else. I’ve tried. Plus, my kids need me.”

“Goddammit that’s fucking adorable,” Raven grunted, wiping away her eyes.

“Oh my God,” Clarke sighed. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I only got it for what felt like a second,” he continued, grabbing another piece of pizza, not even aware that he was unlocking the universe for all hinging upon his words. “But I bet it always feels like that. Two months or sixty years. You find the love, and it’s never enough, but it sustains me now.”

“You could still date. What’s it called?” Aden furrowed. “Companionship? You have to have someone to hang out with when I leave to go to college.”

“I’ll get a dog.”

“Are you crying?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke lied, wiping her cheeks, much worse off than Raven, who now was curled up on the edge of the couch, cradling her crust.

“You’re crying,” Aden realized, growing worried.

“I just miss Lexa,” she sniffled. “I really love her, you know?”

The father and son nodded, not sure what to do. Aden hadn’t learned it yet, but he took this education as best he could, that after two in the morning, the weepy part of a drunk girl party was inevitable.

“We know,” Alex promised.

“I think I love her like you did your wife.”

“Oh.”

Dark green eyes grew wide at the realization. He looked at Clarke and searched her face, noticing the familiar fear and love all mingling together behind glassly blue eyes.

“I love her so much.”

“Thank God,” Aden grunted, handing over a blanket for her to clean up with, nothing else in his reach could help. “She’s nuts about you.”

“I just miss her so much, and I love hanging out with you guys, but you make me miss her more because she’s not here, and she would love Pride. She loves to dance. I love dancing with her.”

The rambling continued, and Alex ate his pizza slower, still dizzy from the booze and his own foray into dancing. Aden tried to cheer Clarke up, though nothing worked.

“I know,” he tutted, giving her a bottle of water.

“I miss her so mu–”

Before Clarke could finish, she locked eyes with Lexa, or at least who she thought was Lexa. She squinted and turned around after staring at the reflection, afraid of seeing that no one was there.

But she was.

“I’m drunk, but Aden, tell me I’m not making this up,” Clarke whispered, slowly standing up in a drunken stumble of an attempt.

“Thank goodness,” he sighed. “I thought I was going to have to take care of them all myself. I’m never drinking.”

“Sorry,” Lexa smiled, dropping her bag. “Delayed because of traffic. Apparently Pride means streets are fabulously closed.”

“Lexa!” her father cheered. “I’m a daddy. Aden is very straight. I’m on the fence, honestly.”

She couldn’t look at her father though. Lexa just stared at Clarke and held her arms open, amused at the state of affairs of the festivities.

“I leave you alone and you’ve got my dad contemplating his sexuality.”

“Everyone is just so pretty,” he defended himself.

“We’ll talk about it in the morn–”

Before she could finish, Clarke pounced, climbing right over the couch and leaping over a sleeping Raven. Her arms wrapped around Lexa’s neck and squeezed. Despite the smell of vodka and pizza and sweat and Pride, Lexa hugged her girlfriend and closed her eyes, melting into it as she wrapped her arms around her ribs and inhaled her neck.

“I love you so much,” Clarke mumbled.

“I love you too.”

“I think I made your dad a little Bi. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. He’s always had a crush on Burt Reynolds.”

“Oh, Burt. Yeah. Forgot about him,” Alex nodded.

Lexa shook her head and hugged her girlfriend tighter. She felt like a real person again, and she wasn’t sure how the difference existed, or how she didn’t feel it until it was dispelled, but right there, with Clarke crying against her shoulder and hugging her tightly, Lexa felt whole.


	2. Terminal

327 East Peach Street sat quietly as June hummed around it, shimmering in the evening and suspended in a sun that just couldn’t find it in itself to set. The car pulled into the driveway and let its headlights shine against the garage for a second before it idled and went silent, no longer harmonizing with the crickets and cicadas. Petals carpeted the yard and walk, a little chaos in the perfectly maintained neighbourhood. The entirety of the scene was nothing short of home.

“Hi there, Doc,” Lexa greeted her girlfriend from the porch as the scrub-clad doctor made her way around the front.

“It’s still so hot out. Please tell me the air conditioning got fixed,” Clarke complained, wiping her hand along the back of her neck as she made her way up the steps. “Where did you get this?”

“Raven sent it to us.”

Clarke paused and squinted at the flag that now took the place of her girlfriend’s baseball flag that normally proudly stood in the front of their home. Instead of a stately black and gold sports emblem, a bright and awfully colorful rainbow flag greeted her.

As if she’d been caught doing something wrong, Clarke looked around the neighborhood and their street, as if their neighbors would now finally realize that they were in a relationship and not straight. For a split second, there was a fear that wormed its way back through her chest, one that she hadn’t thought of in a while, one that never really disappeared, no matter where or when they were.

“Don’t look at me,” Lexa shrugged. “She’s your friend.”

“She’s dating your brother,” Clarke shot back, accusing her.

“That’s poor judgement on her part, not mine.”

“The A/C?” she sighed, annoyed by the stagnant summer.

“Fixed and frosty for my love.”

On the porch, Lexa rubbed her knee with one hand and held her beer bottle against her neck. Dangerous flyaways did just that, and a little color tinted her cheeks from seeing Clarke and her work throughout the day.

Clarke smiled slightly and pushed the sticky hair away from Lexa’s forehead before letting her hand drop to her shoulder and then trail along her back as she slid past and inside.

The screen door closed with a thwap, and Lexa leaned back in the chair, surveying the sunset through the trees and over the rolling hills dotted with houses and the city skyline peaking beyond the trees. In the light, insignificant wind, the flag flapped slightly while inside, the shuffling and creak of the stairs could be heard as Clarke made her way down the hall and toward the laundry room.

All was quiet as Lexa sat there and enjoyed. She owned her own house, had a beautiful girlfriend, and was in school to start a new career. All was well in the world, though she attributed most of it to the fact that they wouldn’t sweat to death now that the air conditioning was fixed.

“How was your day?” Lexa ventured as Clarke reappeared, chilled bottle of beer in her hand, hair tied up in a messy ponytail, shorts and old, ripped shirt tugged from the laundry bin that was waiting to be taken upstairs.

Despite the doctor that arrived, Clarke paused to kiss her girlfriend quickly before taking a seat on the chair beside her, enjoying the porch. She twisted off her beer bottle cap and tossed it on the railing.

“Long. I had a breech and then a premie.”

“How’d it go?”

“Good, I think. Two new babies in the world,” Clarke nodded, finally taking a sip and settling into her chair. “I’m exhausted.”

“Lucky for you I know a place around here with a good bed and a hot woman to keep it warm.”

“Is it close?”

“About one staircase away,” she wiggled her eyebrows and got a smile.

For just a moment, both of them sat there and contemplated. Their street was filled with kids on bikes and parents yelling from porches, but it was theirs and it was perfect. The flag flapped once in a burst of wind and then died almost instantly.

“Raven gave us a flag?”

“She said it was like gay Christmas,” Lexa shrugged and sipped her drink. “I hope that means we get twenty five days worth of gifts.”

“I bet they’d all be rainbow themed.”

“We don’t have to do a bunch of Pride stuff do we?”

“Nah,” Clarke grinned. “Except sex. We can have lots of gay sex.”

“They let you deliver babies with that mouth?”

“No, I use my hands.”

Lexa laughed and looked at the girl that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, very content with her decision and insanely grateful for a stupid layover in an airport all those years ago.

“Do you want to go take a bath?” Lexa finally offered.

“Very much.”

* * *

Summer raged outside, sticky and angry at everything. Still before noon and already much too hot for everyone, the window unit sputtered in the dark bedroom. The curtains were sealed as tightly as humanly possible, though the weather still tried to suck any chill from it.

“I’m never leaving,” Lexa grunted, sheet hanging low on her hip.

“But the pool party,” the other body complained.

“Go without me. Tell my family I died of heat stroke. Go one without me. Don’t marry anyone else. Mourn me for the rest of time.”

“You were less dramatic when you went to war.”

“It wasn’t as hot.”

“In a desert?”

Lexa just whined in response and kicked at the sheets, snaking her leg out so that it was free of the confines. Clarke slid a little closer and kissed naked shoulder blade before moving toward naked spine. It was a beautiful thing to wake up to see, to find all of a naked girl in her bed, in their bed, in their room, in their house.

“My friends really want to meet you,” Clarke whispered.

“Well I’m going to come. I just don’t see the point in celebrating being gay. Why can’t you have straight friends, like me?”

“They’re exhausting.”

Lexa smiled into her pillow as more warmth joined her back. There was this thing that Clarke did, she somehow made Lexa feel unconquerable. Something as simple as kissing her back and laying on top of her was enough to fill her up with a feeling of steel in her bones.

“I’ll go wherever you want, but it’s too hot for you to be touching me like this.”

“Is that right?”

“Woman, it’s too hot to be gay.”

“You’re exhausting.”

“Exactly!”

Clarke slid off the warmth beneath had and pushed away Lexa’s messy hair. She traced the tattoo there and closed her eyes.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now let’s sleep a little more,” Lexa yawned, once more kicking and freeing her body from the sheet.

Clarke didn’t say anything else. Her hand slipped down and over Lexa’s ass and decided that they weren’t going to sleep.


	3. The District

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“But are you really, really sure?” Lexa asked again, just as nervous and not quite sure what else she can say to dissuade her girlfriend from helping at the shop.

Instead, she just watched as precise hands get the stack of papers ready, much neater than anyone had a right to be for so early on Saturday. Already the street outside was becoming busier, and already, Lexa was anxious.

“I am very sure, sweetcheeks,” Clarke promised. “I am going to be your desk girl and look good while doing it.”

“You always look good,” she assured her.

Lexa leaned against the counter and grinned before Clarke gave her a smile and a wink. She was perfect. A feisty beautiful girl who liked to put up with her nonsense and came back for more each time. A smart, kind girl who was way too good.

“You know that you can say no, right?” Lexa fret again. “I know you had plans and I don’t want–”

“Shut your pretty face and get to work, Woods,” Clarke demanded with a grin and hands on her hips. “I’m going to spend time with you. It’s Pride. It’d be homophobic not to be with my girlfriend today.”

“But you had plans–”

“Shp!” she held up a finger to interrupt.

“There was a protest–”

“Huh!” Again.

“I hate keeping–”

The final time a hand went over her mouth and Lexa just stared, mildly confused by the girl in front of her that clasped her trap shut. But Clarke held on and waited until Lexa was done attempting to speak.

“I’m going to run this office so well you’re never going to doubt that I deserve to clerk for a Supreme Court Judge. You’re going to be blown away, and I’m going to make sure you don’t get sued for tattooing anyone underage.”

“That was–” the hand went back over her mouth.

“I’m going to bend over a lot and flirt with you and probably go get us lunch. Then, you’re going to clean up, cook for me, let me take a bath in your big tub, and floor me with praise and sex until Monday morning.”

“I don’t know if my hand will still work after the marathon of tattooing.”

“You better fire up the toys then.”

“You’re seriously the best,” Lexa sighed and leaned down to kiss her temporary office manager and receptionist.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was supposed to be much, much different, actually, where they spent the day running around doing Clarke things like a march and a protest and Lexa wasn’t sure of what else, just that it meant lots of yelling and stuff. But when Bellamy had to go help his sister and no one else could be found to cover, Lexa thrust herself into the arena to prove herself.

And she had the best girlfriend of all time.

“I like being in the shop. I like watching you work,” Clarke shrugged.

“You going to let me give you a little tattoo sometime?”

“That’s the worst pick up line ever.”

“I’ve already picked you up,” Lexa teased as Clarke pushed her toward her station, working extra hard to move the begrudging artist.

“You once told me you’d be afraid to tattoo me.”

“I am. I’m terrified. But I love to be scared.”

“Oh shut up,” Clarke sighed and flipped the card on the door making them open. The line outside came alive slightly and Lexa grew a little nervous. “Welcome welcome. We’ll take the first two to get the paperwork started and then I’ll be out to explain everything else. Pride-themed tattoos for twenty bucks. Who’s excited?”

The line of well close to twenty people clapped. Over five hundred people were registered online, and the first ones were the smartest. With a deep breath, Lexa watched her girlfriend become enigmatic and welcoming and she prepared to impress.

* * *

Though they were small marks and though they had a specific list they could choose from, something about just doing an obscene number of tattoos and working with her girlfriend was amazingly fun. It was super busy and it was super long, but the day flew by in record time.

But Lexa did it like a champ. Clarke even complimented her and told her as much when she dropped off lunch. She leaned down and kissed her temple and gave her wink. There were all these moments that they stole and kept.

But the flash sale happened, and they closed up when Murphy finished the final one and Lexa finished cleaning her studio. It was a long, tiring day, and Lexa was sick of rainbows, but she didn’t care. She was done and she’d done her civic duty.

“Did you see the picture my mom sent?” Lexa asked as Clarke made her way into the small booth. “She went to the parade and had fun dancing.”

“I did,” Clarke grinned as Lexa flashed the picture. “She looks like she had a good time.”

“That’s my mom. A ball of energy.”

“I like it.”

“Me too,” Lexa smiled to herself. “So can we be done for the night? I’m exhausted.”

“There’s one more for you.”

“You’re working me harder than Bellamy. I don’t think I like when you’re in charge.”

“I’m always in charge,” she grinned and slid across a little piece of paper with a design on it.

Lexa slumped slightly and held up the piece of paper with one hand before soothing her sore neck with the other. She dug into the muscles there and stared for a moment before looking at her girlfriend’s face and knowing full well she wasn’t getting out of it. So she nodded and rolled her eyes, amused at herself.

“Send them in.”

“Done,” Clarke nodded, and slid onto the bench, letting her feet dangle.

There was too much disconnect between the words and the action and everything Lexa knew. She furrowed and looked at the little design and then back at Clarke, completing the loop a few times before opening her mouth and then closing it again.

“You’re serious?” she asked incredulously.

“Just one, very small and hidden and yeah, why not? I’m young and you’re the best.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“But this is permanent.”

“I know,” Clarke nodded.

“You want me to tattoo this on you?”

“Yeah, right here,” she agreed again, shifting and tugging down the edge of her shorts.

“Your butt?”

“The back of my hip.”

“Is this a prank?” Lexa squinted up at the girl on her bench and shook her head.

“Nope.”

“Are you serious, Congress?”

“If you ask me again, I’ll ask Murphy.”

“Like hell you will,” the artist snapped at the mere idea of it. She paused for a moment and waited for Clarke to laugh and tell her she was just pulling her leg. It never came though.

Instead, Clarke leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend’s cheek.

“So how should I sit?”

* * *

It took less than ten minutes. It was the size of a nickel, but much much cuter, and as she wiped one final time, getting rid of excess ink and stencil, Lexa smiled to herself and surveyed her girlfriend’s hip and back and hair and she couldn’t believe the absolute universe of a person that kept her guessing.

“You are now an officially badass babe,” Lexa announced proudly. “Only a few dozen more hours and you’ll be covered like me.”

“This was more than enough,” Clarke assured her before sliding off of the bench in search of the mirror.

Backing herself up toward it, Clarke grinned and turned different ways in the light, surveying the newest addition to her body.

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s adorable,” her girlfriend promised, tossing away her kit and used supplies. “What do you think of it?”

“I love it,” she promised. “I know it’s small and silly, but I kind of just wanted to try it. The only person who will see it is you.”

“Thank goodness. Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Nah,” Clarke shrugged. “I did this for me.”

“You’re an interesting fellow, Congress,” Lexa mused. “Come here and let me wrap it for the night. No bath for you. Can’t soak for a few weeks.”

“Fuck.”

“I know, I know,” the artist grinned. “A real struggle.”

“It’s sore.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be.”

“How do you sit for this for hours?” Clarke mused as Lexa carefully blew on the lotioned skin soothing away some of the burn before putting on a wrap.

“Art.”

“Is my ass a work of art now?”

“Baby, this ass was a masterpiece before. It’s only gotten better now.”

“The sweet talker this one is,” Clarke chuckled before Lexa pulled up her shorts for her and tugged her into her lap.

“I told you from day one that your ass was in good hands.”

Clarke just smiled and kissed her girlfriend.


	4. Monarchy

“I’m not doing it.”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not!”

At the sound of a voice raising, the queen piqued an eyebrow and looked up at her pacing daughter.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa sighed.

Normally the middle child was composed to the outside world. The mother knew better though because beneath the prim and structured demeanor was the most passionate person to exist in the family. She had the breeding of the cool and calm and never ruffled, and yet Lexa felt everything, all of the time. Make her walk over coals, beat her within an inch of her life, break her bones until they were splinters, and she was fine, she was great, she was nonplussed. Make her feel something, make her have to contemplate how something made her heart feel, and she was frothing, flaming, fighting it.

“You’re going to do it, and you’re going to be gracious and kind and honored,” her mother began again.

Despite how tightly strung she was, despite how much it hurt, and despite how hard it was to relinquish, the princess deflated and crossed her arms petulantly in the chair across from her mother’s desk.

“But I really don’t want to,” she tried again, hoping her pitiful face would sway her mother, though she knew the truth.

“I don’t want to do pilates every other day or have lunch with that miserable wife of your uncle, but I have to. Fifteen hundred years of ruling this country means we have to do things we don’t want to do. This is what the ancestors fought for.”

“For me to accept an award for being gay?” Lexa asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, honey. That is what your relatives dreamt of when they cultivated the most violent medieval tribe and conquered the rest.”

Lexa pursed her lips and looked out the window before sighing heavily. Her mother watched her jaw flex and her knee go from fidgeting to still.

“Pilates, huh?”

“An hour, every other day.”

“It shows. You’re looking ripped.”

“Don’t sweet talk me.”

Lexa grinned and ducked her head, pure mischief and charm and cunning, pure cunning above the rest.

“A whole night based around celebrating me being someone who stands out because of who they fell in love with?” she squinted her face and cocked her head. “I cannot imagine a worse way to spend my time.”

“Lunch with Aunt Gertie?”

“I will go to a years worth of lunches if I don’t have to go accept this gay award.”

“Really?” the queen grinned.

“No.”

For a moment the quiet sat between them. Despite herself, Lexa smiled because her mother was such a pain and she had nothing else to do. Of course it was already decided that Lexa would be at the awards banquet and she’d accept the award and she’d smile and be happy no matter what. Before she even heard about it, she was bound to go. Her mother was the chess champion.

“Do I take a date?”

“If you can find one,” the queen teased.

“Clarke is going to hate me.”

“Send her flowers.”

“Hey, hey,” the door opened with the king entering, his nose in his phone. “Oh, Al, perfect. I still can’t figure out what I’m tweeting.”

“She has to go to a fitting,” his wife stopped him in his tracks.

“I run this country, and no one will help me get anything done.”

“You’re not tweeting.”

“I’ll help you,” Lexa offered, jumping at the chance.

“Go to your fitting, get your date.”

“Send her flowers. Chicks dig flowers still, don’t they?”

Before she could say anything else, the queen gave her daughter a warning look, and Lexa snapped her mouth shut before looking to her father for help.

“Don’t look at me. You know she runs this place,” Alex shrugged and scrolled again on his phone.

“I am going to ask Anya to abolish this place when she takes over. Kick me out or something. Bring back exiling,” Lexa huffed as she sat up and rolled her eyes.

“She should bring back the Olympics, too,” her father added. “I haven’t been able to get those again. We hosted such nice games.”

Only the king and queen were left in the office as their daughter sighed and grumbled under her breath. They shared a look and smiled.

* * *

“Your mom is not going to like that,” Clarke grinned as she leaned against the doorway and watched her girlfriend check herself out in the mirror.

“Hey, she’s the one who told me I had to go accept this award and be super gay in front of the entire world. This is what she gets,” Lexa muttered as she adjusted her tie, tilting her chin up and appraising over her cheeks, not satisfied with something.

Clarke just surveyed and appreciated, quite shamelessly. She was in her own dress and had already been given too many accolades by her girlfriend. There was no way she was going to miss the opportunity to fall a little more in love. She couldn’t help it, even if she wanted to try. Instead, she just sighed contentedly and watched.

“You’re looking very hot.”

“But with the tie? I liked it at the designer’s, but I’m not so sure now. There’s also,” she explained, leaning over and picking up something else from the garment bag laid across her bed. “The bowtie? What do you think?”

Nimbly, hands moved to tie it around her neck, and Clarke swallowed, because it was impossible for her girlfriend to get more attractive, and then….

“I’d feel better if you just stopped looking so good in everything.”

“I’m not sure,” Lexa grunted and shook her head before tugging the tie undone and scrutinizing herself even harder.

There weren’t many tells with the former soldier who flew helicopters into dangerous zones. She was an expert poker player. But Clarke learned them, and she knew that the antsiness was just nerves, and she was freaking out a lot.

“You are spectacular, and you deserve this award. What you’ve done in the past few months has be–”

“I didn’t do anything except be born with a crown and an unwavering hankering for the fairer sex, especially doctors,” she shrugged. “Nothing noble in it.”

“Stop saying that!”

The raising of the voice made Lexa turn around quickly, not accustomed to the doctor sounding like that. To be fair, she knew it was just a matter of time before she learned it. She was her father’s daughter, and they were known to be quite taxing.

Clarke inhaled deeply before finally pushing off of the door and making her way across the large bedroom. She gave her girlfriend a firm look before she began straightening her collar.

“You came out to the entire world, as the first person in a royal family. That’s not nothing,” Clarke insisted.

Lexa simply tilted her head and let her adjust her shirt, pressing her palms flat over her chest and smoothing down the cloth around her neck.

“I haven’t done anything worthy of an award except exist,” Lexa insisted again. “It feels unfair.”

“It was very brave. You might not realize it, but you’ve helped people. You will never meet them, you will never see them,” she explained with a small, small smile. “But you did something, and you did it even with the fear of losing everything.”

“I don’t like getting awards.”

“Too bad.”

“I don’t want to go,” Lexa whispered, swallowing a large gulp.

“I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

“You look fantastic. Have I told you that yet?” she offered, still oddly sheepish. “You look spectacular. They haven’t invented words for how good you look.”

Clarke fixed the pristine suit jacket for her girlfriend and smiled while staring at her lips. There was a blush beneath her makeup, and Lexa knew it.

“Keep talking like that and see where it gets you.”

She kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, made sure she didn’t leave any trace of lipstick, and made her way toward the door.

“I know where I hope it gets me,” the princess muttered, giving herself another look in the mirror and giving up at ever feeling comfortable.

* * *

The red carpet was absolutely terrible. Nothing happened to make it that way, but simply because it existed, it was a pain. They’d done a few together already, making waves as a cute couple, as the most talked about pairing in the world. But this was different, and Lexa knew it. So she smiled a little more and relaxed, becoming The Princess.

Lexa held her girlfriend’s hand, placed her hand on her lower back to guide her. They moved along the carpet and did the interviews. For only have a few months of media training, Clarke did well, enough to amaze everyone. But of course, Lexa wasn’t surprised. Her girlfriend stayed up all night studying for a party.

When it came time for her to accept her honors, Lexa kissed Clarke’s cheek and made her way to the stage, more nervous than she could remember being in her entire life, which was an impressive feat to beat in her history of appearances.

For a beat, as the applause surged around her, deafening all else, Lexa stared at the statue in her hands and smiled slightly before clearing her throat.

“I want to thank you, for this amazing honor,” she began. “I stand among many great people tonight and am in awe of each of you. I’ve been given many things in my life. I exist in great privilege. And all I did was fell in love. I didn’t do anything other than what everyone else does every day, what everyone should have a right to do, but don’t in 72 countries in the world. I did something that could get me killed in eight of those countries. I did something that cause almost 30% of young members of our community to attempt to commit suicide every year. I did something that gets 20% of LGBT youth into homelessness. I did something that gets people killed every year, and of these hate crimes, 4 out of 5 are minorities. I did something as simple as fall in love, and have been fortunate enough to be able to enjoy because of the hard work of many Trans, Gay, Lesbian members of this community who go largely forgotten because of the color of their skin. I went and fell in love with a woman and caused a near collapse of a centuries old monarchy. And it shouldn’t have been that way, but it was, and it is. And I am here because I am proud to stand beside you all, and prepared to topple everything.”

The crowd applauded as Lexa grew passionate. From her seat, Clarke held her breath.

“Standing here tonight though, amongst such greatness and kindness and empathy, reminds me to always do and give more. I will treasure this honor you’ve given me, as an icon, as a crusader, I think this will be the most precious thing I’ve ever done. And I am grateful you’ve given me the chance to become a force for good. My parents have been nothing but supportive. My siblings have been protective and sweet. And my girlfriend,” Lexa smiled again.

“She has been a well of strength for me. I have found the world to be a much more habitable place when I am my true self, and I promise to spend my time and privilege finding ways to help everyone experience this same gift. It is not lost on me that I am standing here in place of many more deserving activists and humanitarians and volunteers because of the simple randomness of birth. You are not missed or forgotten. Your work is noticed, and it is doing things.”

The applause came again and Lexa took a shaky breath before looking down at the statue in her hand and fiddling with it slightly until it quieted.

“Today I was reminded quite briskly. That what we might do, the lives we might touch, they will happen without us knowing it. You don’t do good works, and try to fix the world because you need to see it. There are lists of names of those who have died with the hope of one day, the world allowing a night like tonight, to honor our community and celebrate our progress, who died when it was illegal to fall in love in more than 72 countries. Today I was reminded by the smartest person I know, that we make the world better than we found it, even if we can’t see the changes. I am deeply humbled and honored to accept this award, and to be your gay princess. This award is for the little ones who know can see that you can love whoever you want, and still wear a tiara. Thank you.”

Lexa didn’t hear the applause. She didn’t see Clarke standing. She didn’t see the entire place applauding her. Instead, she waved and ducked her head before leaving the state. She certainly wouldn’t have known that her mother was wiping a tear away from her cheek and applauding her from her office. She definitely didn’t know that her father smiled to himself and leaned back on the couch with a giant exhalation he didn’t realize he was holding until she finished speaking. How could she know that he pushed up his glasses and nodded to himself while muttering “that’s my girl,” as he picked up his phone and tried to tweet again. There was absolutely no earthly way that Lexa could have known that when it was shared in the following days, a ten year old finally let out a breath they’d been holding for their entire life because a princess felt the same way she did.

No. Lexa didn’t know. She got off the stage though and earned a hug from her sister that she hung onto longer than normal, and she stopped shaking, and prepared for pictures, becoming The Princess once again.

* * *

The floor was littered with expensive clothing. A pair of trousers and a black bra were crumpled together, while a heel had bounced under the bed and its mate went to the other side of the desk. Proudly, a trophy sat on the nightstand as the sun came up and the world intruded, reminding the sleeping pair that it didn’t care.

Despite the deep sleep, Lexa felt the body shift in her arms. She kissed the skin of a shoulder that still had the lingering smell of perfume and her bed on it. She felt the body still itself and push into her front.

“We have to get up. It’s almost ten,” the voice came with the moving and the stilling.

Hands wrapped around her ribs, and Clarke was alright with it. She didn’t mean the words. She meant the curling into Lexa, and they both knew it.

“Sleep more.”

“We have to get ready to be gay again today.”

“It’s so much damn work,” Lexa grunted, tossing her leg over Clarke’s hip.

“I fell asleep.”

“Do it again.”

“No, I mean, I feel asleep in the palace again,” Clarke realized, her eyes opening finally.

“I do that every night almost,” Lexa complained, burrowing as best as she could. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Lexa…”

“Please be quiet and sleep. I love you, I do,” she murmured. “But I need two more hours and so do you. And you’re keeping me up, miss I’m-not-afraid-of-mortar-fire-but-the-queen-makes-me-shake.”

“That’s quite a name I have.”

“That’s it,” Lexa huffed, unwrapping herself and turning the opposite direction. In a flurry and snit she tugged a pillow over her head, only mumbling more words that couldn’t be understood.

“I can’t hear you,” Clarke called over her shoulder.

“I said, I get an award for being a good gay, and I can’t get two hours of sleep,” she muttered from beneath the edge of the pillow. “All because you took advantage of me in the palace.”

“Dating you is hard. I deserve the award.”

Clarke rolled over and made herself comfortable until Lexa relaxed into her arms. She kissed her neck to help ease the crankiness.

“Two more hours, please?”

“Deal,” the doctor nodded. “You just wanted to be the little spoon.”

Lexa smiled to herself and shrugged.


End file.
